<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Promises of Beating Hearts by nxghtwxng</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27075268">The Promises of Beating Hearts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nxghtwxng/pseuds/nxghtwxng'>nxghtwxng</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Navigating Life [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 01:14:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,892</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27075268</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nxghtwxng/pseuds/nxghtwxng</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I love you, Damian.”</p><p>“I love you too. I love you so much, Jon. I–” Damian swallows back another sob. “Please don’t leave me,” he whispers.</p><p>Or: Damian worries he may lose the person he cares about most.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Navigating Life [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845865</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>284</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Promises of Beating Hearts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aliens are invading. <em> Again.  </em></p><p>Early that morning, the Watchtower had picked up on a foreign object entering Earth’s atmosphere. The Green Lanterns had gone to investigate, and had been greeted with open-fire from an invading warship rocketing towards Earth. The Lanterns had retreated back to the Watchtower to alert the Justice League as the warship landed in Metropolis, the invasion force spilling out from the ship’s doors and into the streets littered with early morning commuters. </p><p>“Robin, watch your six!” Nightwing shouts.</p><p>Damian heeds his brother’s warning, rolling to the side just as an alien invader swings his electric spear at the open air where Damian’s head had been not a moment ago. Damian extracts a Batarang from his utility belt and sends it flying at his opponent.</p><p>The battle is in full swing now– has been for a while. Damian isn’t quite sure how long he’s been fighting, though it’s been long enough that his limbs feel laden by his armor. Even his Batarangs feel heavy in his hand.</p><p>Another invader charges towards Damian, sending another spear flying at his head. These aliens seem to be relatively one-note in regards to fighting styles.</p><p>Damian dodges the attack, then aims a kick at the invader’s midsection, grinning when the contact results in a sickening <em> crack. </em>The invader grunts, mouth twisting into a sneer. He bangs his spear against the ground, and the weapon wakes, static twisting up and around its body until the tip surges with electricity. </p><p>Damian pauses. Something about that spear is wrong.</p><p>It’s the color, Damian realizes. Electricity should appear blue. This spear is cackling with static that’s tinged green. </p><p>A sharp, biting, and sickeningly familiar shade of green.</p><p>Damian’s hand flies to his communicator. “Robin to Superman and Superboy. Come in.”</p><p>Damian dodges another attack from his opponent, then jabs at his already weakened midsection. The invader wheezes, staggering to the side. Damian takes advantage of his instability and sends a roundhouse kick at his head. He crumples to the ground, with his spear clattering next to him.</p><p>Damian’s communicator buzzes in his ear. <em> “Superman to Robin. Go for Superman.” </em></p><p>“And Superboy?” Damian replies, already searching the sky for Jon. He spots him working in tandem with Superman, dismantling the invading warship’s external defenses, tearing ray-guns and missile launchers from the ship’s underbelly. </p><p><em> “He’s got his hands full right now, but he’s with me,” </em> Clark says. <em> “I can relay the message.” </em></p><p>Damian nods, though he knows Clark can’t see him. “They have Kryptonite,” he warns. “I have reason to believe they are using it to power their weapons.”</p><p><em> “Understood. I’ll– Jon! </em>Jon!”</p><p>And just like that, Damian’s world stops. </p><p>Everything around him goes still. <em> Damian </em> goes still. He can’t move– can’t even <em> think– </em>as he watches one of the warship’s external defenses fire bright green bullets at Jon’s chest.</p><p>Jon is too far away for Damian to make out anything but black hair and a cape, but <em> somehow </em>Damian swears he can see Jon’s eyes go wide with morbid surprise as the bullets manage to lodge themselves in Jon’s bulletproof skin.</p><p>Surprised eyes then flutter closed, and Jon begins to fall. He hurtles towards the ground at a breakneck speed, while the rest of the world moves around Damian in slow motion.</p><p>Jon crash lands in the middle of the street. The asphalt beneath him cracks with the impact. </p><p>Then Damian is running. Blood rushes to his ears, drowning out the raucous chaos of battle. All he can hear is his own ragged breaths and heavy footfalls as he runs towards Jon.</p><p>When Damian finally reaches him, his breath hitches.</p><p>Jon’s complexion is ghostly pale. There’s blood soaking through the front of his sweatshirt. </p><p>Clark is kneeled on the ground, bent over Jon with his hands pressing against his son’s chest, applying pressure. Blood is still seeping between his fingers.</p><p>Jon’s gaze is unfocused. Eyes that are usually a vivid blue are now a dim, dismal grey. His breaths are slow and strained, tiny gasps traveling between slightly parted lips. Lips that Damian had kissed just the night prior are now fighting for their next breath.</p><p>It's wrong. Surreal.</p><p>“Jon,” Damian whispers, voice breaking. He kneels next to Jon, across from Clark, and presses his hands to Jon’s chest, helping Clark to slow the bleeding.</p><p>Because it’s not too late. It’s <em> not. </em></p><p>Jon blinks up at Damian, slowly. “Hey, D,” he mumbles. He coughs, and Damian tries not to flinch as blood pools in his mouth. “This sucks.”</p><p>Damian makes a sound that falls somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Jon smiles up at him, small and sad, and Damian begins to cry in earnest. </p><p>“Damian,” Jon whispers. “I love you. I’ll always love you.”</p><p>Damian shakes his head. “No.” He chokes on the word, throat lodged with another sob fighting its way out. “No, you are <em> not </em> dying. I won’t <em> let you </em> die.” He presses down harder on Jon’s chest. Jon gives him another sad smile. <em> “Jon,” </em>Damian pleads.</p><p>“I love you, Damian.”</p><p>“I love you too. I love you so much, Jon. I–” Damian swallows back another sob. “Please don’t leave me,” he whispers.</p><p>“I don’t want to,” Jon tells him. He blinks, and when he re-opens his eyes, his gaze is on Clark. “Dad?”</p><p>“Yeah, Jonny?” Clarks asks. His voice is shaking, and his cheeks are wet.</p><p>“Tell Mom that I love her, that I love you both.”</p><p>Clark nods solemnly. “I will.” His mouth twists into a sorrowful, tight-lipped smile. “Your mother and I love you so much, Jonny. So much.”</p><p>Jon returns Clark’s smile, then lolls his head towards Damian. “D,” he says. He takes a shaky inhale.</p><p>The exhale never comes.</p><p>Damian sobs. He cries harder than he can ever remember crying. </p><p>“No. No. No. <em> No.” </em> Damian repeats the word until it doesn’t sound like a word anymore. He starts CPR compressions. His hands are sticky with Jon’s blood. </p><p>“Damian,” Clark says gently. He’s already removed his hands from Jon’s chest.</p><p>Clark giving up. <em> Why </em> is he giving up? Why is he <em> letting Jon die? </em> </p><p><em> “No,” </em>Damian insists. “We can still save him. We can–”</p><p>A hand falls to Damian’s shoulder. “Damian.” It’s Nightwing. “He’s gone.”</p><p><em> “No,” </em>Damian repeats. He continues to press against Jon’s chest. Jon isn’t responding. </p><p>The hand on Damian’s shoulder tightens, tugging him back. Damian shoulders the hand away. It returns immediately, tugging him with more insistence. “Come on, Damian,” Dick says quietly. “You need to leave him.”</p><p>“Let <em> go of me, </em>Richard!” Damian cries, writhing as Dick tries to pull him away from Jon. “Unhand me!”</p><p>“Jon is gone,” Dick stresses. “I’m sorry, Damian, I’m <em> so sorry, </em> but he’s gone.”</p><p>“No!” Damian shouts. He continues compressions, but Jon doesn’t so much as stir. Damian feels helpless. <em> “Why isn’t he waking up?” </em>he cries, voice ringing with desperation.</p><p>“Damian,” Dick says sadly, like Damian’s heart breaking is breaking his own. He wraps his arms around Damian’s shoulders and tugs. This time, Damian goes with him, collapsing against his brother’s chest.</p><p>“Why isn’t he waking up?” he sobs against Dick’s chest.</p><p>“Damian.”</p><p>“Why isn’t he waking up?”</p><p>“Damian.”</p><p>"Why isn’t he–”</p><p>
  <em> “Damian!” </em>
</p><p>Damian jerks awake, shooting upright in bed. He blinks, and hot tears spill from his eyes. His heart is beating erratically in his chest. His breathing is rapid, and he twists his hands into the bedspread as he tries to regulate his breathing with a long, slow breath.</p><p>“Dames, are you okay?” Jon asks gently. “You were having a nightmare.”</p><p>Jon. </p><p>Jon is <em> alive, </em> in bed, sitting next to Damian with worry in his eyes– eyes that are discernibly <em> blue, </em>not grey with impending death. </p><p>“Dames?”</p><p>Damian surges forward, crashing his lips against Jon’s. One hand finds Jon’s cheek, while the other buries itself in Jon’s hair. Damian kisses Jon fervently, lips moving hard and fast and fingers twisting in his hair, all in a desperate attempt to remind himself that <em> Jon is alive.  </em></p><p>Jon easily melts against Damian, pliant under his hands as he lets Damian take the comfort he needs.</p><p>As misplaced anxiety from his nightmare begins to wane, Damian allows their kiss to slow to something languid. He doesn’t yet pull away, though. He keeps his lips on Jon’s as a steady reminder that Jon is there.</p><p>
  <em> Alive. He's alive. </em>
</p><p>Still, fear stubbornly resides, biting at the back of Damian’s mind with a million <em> What If’s. </em>Almost unwittingly, Damian slides his hand from Jon’s cheek to the side of his neck, then presses two fingers to his pulse point. Just to make sure.</p><p>Jon breaks their kiss, but stays close enough that his nose bumps against Damian’s as he speaks. “Are you taking my pulse?” he asks with a whispered laugh.</p><p>Damian blushes slightly– he knows he’s being ridiculous, knows it was just a nightmare, and that Jon is <em> fine– </em>but he makes no effort to remove his fingers from Jon’s neck. “Maybe,” he mumbles.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Just checking.”</p><p>“That I’m alive?” </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Oh.” Jon pulls back enough to look at Damian properly, understanding dawning. “You dreamt that I was dead?” </p><p>Damian nods slowly, taking a shuddering breath. “I watched you die. We were in the field, assisting the League, and… I watched you die.” Damian pauses, takes another breath. “I can usually discern nightmares from reality, but… This one just felt so real.”</p><p>“But it <em>wasn’t</em> real,” Jon reminds him. He takes Damian’s hand in his, then presses it against his chest– the same place that Damian had pressed his hands in his nightmare in a vain attempt to stop Jon from bleeding. </p><p>But there’s no blood this time. Only a strong, sturdy chest and an even heartbeat. </p><p>“I’m alive,” Jon says quietly. “I’m alive. You’re alive. Everything is okay.”</p><p>Damian nods again. He then tilts his head for one more kiss, this one chaste and gentle. A final reassurance. </p><p>When they pull apart, Jon pulls Damian into a hug. Damian moves with him easily, ducking his head to press against Jon’s shoulder. </p><p>“I love you, <em> habibi,” </em>Damian breathes. “I’m sorry I woke you.”</p><p>Jon plants a kiss in his hair. “Don’t apologize.” Another kiss, this time on Damian’s temple. “I love you too.”</p><p>Damian kisses the juncture between Jon’s neck and shoulder, then lays back down, tugging Jon down with him. He moves so his chest is pressed against Jon’s back, wrapping one arm around Jon’s waist. He brings the other to splay across Jon’s chest, feeling the reassuring thrum of his heartbeat under his hand.</p><p>Damian presses another kiss to Jon’s skin, this time just under his ear. “Jon?” he whispers.</p><p>Jon reaches a hand up to wrap gently around Damian’s wrist, his thumb tracing rhythmic circles over the skin. “Yeah, D?”</p><p>“Don’t ever leave me. Please.” Damian’s voice is small, his words hesitant, vulnerable in a way he rarely is– <em> only </em>ever is with Jon, when nightmares rouse him in the middle of the night, reminding him of his deepest fears and oldest traumas. </p><p>Jon’s hand slips from Damian’s wrist to his hand, threading their fingers. Under the sheets, he tangles their legs together. “Never," he whispers.</p><p>Jon’s heart continues to beat under their intertwined hands. The steady rhythm soon sends Damian back to sleep, each beat a quiet promise. </p><p>Ba-dum. </p><p>
  <em>I'm alive.</em>
</p><p>Ba-dum. </p><p>
  <em>I'm here.</em>
</p><p>Ba-dum.</p><p>
  <em>I love you.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wrote this after watching too much Greys Anatomy. Hence the dramatic ass CPR. </p><p>Chat with me on Tumblr: <a href="https://nightwingbb.tumblr.com/">nightwingbb</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>